


Blue

by fragilespark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver almost drowned as a child.</p><p>Isabela wants to take him for a swim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on Leandra, they’re almost four. Didn’t Marian start at this age?”

It was an unusually hot day and a few people had taken to the South Amaranthine river and the shade of trees where it forked. The sound of cheery conversation and play filled the air and the Hawkes were going to enjoy it like any other family.

Carver watched some older children - older than Marian - take a running leap across the river. He knew he couldn’t do what they did, but he saw some other children paddling further along, and thought he’d like to give it a try.

“I’m going to set the blanket here, okay? Let them splash a bit and then we can have some fruit.”

Marian took Bethany by the hand and tugged her towards the water, Carver and Malcolm following behind. They soon had their instructions: shoes and socks off, everything else hitched up. While Malcolm was helping Bethany, Carver made his way into the water.

“Wait for us.” Marian called.

Carver loved the feeling of the water on his legs. It was nice and refreshing, and made his feet look funny. He walked, watching the ripples move and the water seep into his bunched up shorts and then the bottom of his shirt as the water line rose. His hands were in the water too. He was getting closer to where the big children were playing.

In a moment, his leg gave under him, the water went over him, and his arms splashed the surface as he flailed. He somehow forced himself up and gasped. He hadn’t regained his balance, however, and the flow of the current impeded his attempt to stand as he heard Mother scream his name before he went under again. In the muffled water he heard an echo of his name, Father this time, and he writhed in a desparate attempt to get himself upright.

Malcolm’s arms went around him and scooped him up, and when they both slumped breathless on the riverbank he only held him tighter. “Oh, Carver. Oh, my boy.” He kissed the top of Carver’s head.

Carver gulped in air and did the only thing his body wanted to do, which was to start crying. He started to feel better.

“Malcolm!” Leandra’s steps splashed in the water as she crossed it. “Is he okay? Oh- no, Marian, stay there with Bethany! Don’t let her in the river. Oh, my baby.”

“He’s fine.” Malcolm cuddled the sobbing Carver. “You’re alright now, aren’t you? Daddy’s got you.”

Carver clung to him. He didn’t need to, the danger was over, but he found it comforting. He whined but the distress faded, and by the time Malcolm loosened his hold to let Leandra at him, he was only sniffling.

Leandra smoothed his sodden hair to one side of his forehead before hugging him. “Why weren’t you closer to him?”

“Because Bethany-” Malcolm sighed. “You’re right. Maybe swimming was a bad idea. They’re enough of a handful on land.”

Carver tried to turn. He could hear Bethany. She was crying; a little whimper, but he knew it. “Bethy.”

“Bethany’s fine,” Leandra said, “it’s you who almost drowned. You’re not to go into the water, okay? Not even with Marian.”

“Bethy.” He repeated, turning sullen. He wanted his sister.

“Pick him up again, I don’t want him walking in it.” Leandra stood and pulled off her wet shoes.

Malcolm hoisted him up. “Well now, who’s a brave boy? Who’s had a big, scary adventure?”

Carver sucked his thumb, his free hand curling onto Malcolm’s collar. “Hungry,” he said, around the thumb. Bethy first, then food. Father always seemed to understand him.


	2. Deep Blue

“But can you swim now?”

Carver wasn’t sure if Isabela was eyeing him up and down for his suitability for the seas, or because she was simply checking him out. “I don’t know. I’ve never really had the opportunity to try.”

“If you tag along with me, you’ll have _ample_ opportunity to try many things.”

He tried to keep his mind on track. Although he wasn’t sure why he bothered. “I think I’ve done my fair share of tagging along.”

Isabela leaned forward. “Listen, pup,” she had obviously been spending plenty of time with Varric, “if you parade around with your pride you’re not going to last five minutes out there. Believe it, I’m the Captain and you’re just going to have to fully appreciate what it means.” Carver waited. “To be under me.” There it was.

“I’m not sure how we got from ‘paddling’ to 'crew’.”

Isabela chuckled. “If I had it my way, the crew would get a lot more paddling.”

“Hang on,” Carver said, diverting from the fact he had no idea what she was referring to, “suddenly the Captain isn’t all-powerful?”

“Look, we’re all at risk of ending up at the bottom of the ocean. If you run your ship well, you at least have a fighting chance when bad luck - or worse - comes your way.” She downed the last of her drink. “But you’re right. I think we need to get you in the water and see how you do.” She was looking at his body again.

“At night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Smiling, she waved for another drink. “Tomorrow. And don’t bring anything valuable, we’re leaving it on the beach.”

 

Carver brought his sword anyway; going to the Wounded Coast unarmed seemed a stupid idea, even if this was practically a date. Not having fixed a time with Isabela, he had left Kirkwall at sunset, and the last of the glow lingered over the water as he paced the sandy cove. Light disappeared into inky darkness, but not warmth, not wholly; it was a summer’s night, and the rocks seemed alive with the calls of birds and insects still basking in it.

“You know,” Isabela said, hopping down from somewhere behind him, “I didn’t mean you just have to stand there and wait to be told what to do.” She had also come prepared, dispensing with some of her jewelry but still with her daggers, and probably some more Carver didn’t know about.

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh, don’t pout. Come on, then, let’s get rid of all this.”

She took off her armguards and daggers, and as Carver pulled off his boots she also removed her collar. Carver took off everything but his underwear, and Isabela, barefoot, had nothing much to remove either. When she unlaced her tunic and pulled it off, she was bare-chested, and Carver averted his gaze.

“All of it.” She said, and Carver caught her pulling down the last of her clothing from the edge of his vision.

He took a deep breath and kicked off his own, and when he turned Isabela was walking away from him, towards the sea, kissed by the wind and waves he was ready to believe were under her command. She walked in to waist height and then stretched forward, her body sinking further into the waves. Carver followed her in until he was shoulder-deep, like her, with his toes brushing against the sand.

He loved the feeling. It seemed to melt away something in him, something that resisted everything else. He had no idea if he would be able to swim, but he did feel very at home in the water.

Isabela turned. “How is it?”

“Warm.”

“Mmmm. And the water?”

Carver laughed. Isabela swam back from him.

“Come here.”

The way he was moving, when he ground disappeared beneath him he was up to his chin in water, keeping his face up and his legs kicking. It wasn’t going to get him very far after that.

“Good. Now use your arms more. Maker knows you have them - use them.”

Carver swept his arms through the water, but there was little resistance there. He started panting softly. He had no idea why so little physical effort should start to affect him so soon.

“You’re too tense,” Isabela said gently, moving towards him. “Don’t fight the water. If you stay still, it’ll lift you up. Let it.”

Not moving was against everything he thought he should be doing. He gasped, needing solid ground again. “H-how do I- go backwards?”

Isabela gave him a little push. He almost went under.

“Hey!”

“Feet down.”

He was, surprisingly, not that far from the ground, and the water gently lapped at his collarbones as he curled his toes in the sand and dissipated the light panic he had been starting to feel.

“You need to trust me. Do it here. You know you can put your feet down, right?”

Carver nodded.

“Bend your knees. Pretend you’re in deep. Your body will want to float; let the water move you up.”

His mind accepted the instructions. When he felt himself sinking instead of floating, he squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t move. His lower body started angling towards the surface and he tried not to tense up, even when he felt the water cover the back of his head.

“Alright, you’re not dead. Relax, move, open your eyes.”

Carver’s naked front faced the night sky and it was a struggle not to curl up and hide. He was glad to see Isabela kept her gaze on his own.

“Tip your head back. Don’t look at me, look at the stars.”

“Is that so you can- you know- stare-” he did it anyway, dipping his ears back into the water.

Isabela’s muffled reply seemed to be, “absolutely.”

He stole a quick glance. She really was. Carver’s heart pounded suddenly, and he brought his legs down to hide his inevitable erection. Safely under the water, and steady on his feet, he looked over at her again. “You didn’t take everything off.”

Wet hands went to her headscarf. With her arms up, her breasts moved tantalisingly up to break the surface.

“Isabela…”

She pulled the blue fabric off and slipped it behind his neck, tugging him close. The gold of her earrings was dulled in the dim light, but her eyes still seemed to shine.

Carver kissed her, his hands finding her waist and settling against its curve. Isabela didn’t let him keep his distance, pushing her body against his and replacing the scarf with her arms. The material tickled one of Carver’s shoulderblades as it dangled from her hand, and the submerged end stuck itself slowly against his back before drifting away again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and did nothing to prevent the touch of his cock against the base of her belly; she pulled back from the deep kiss and instead planted a few soft kisses against his lips, which Carver took as a sign of her continuing approval.

“Well, now.” was all she said, playing with the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah.” Carver dipped his head and kissed the saltwater on her neck. Strangely enough, he had never imagined her without her collar. “Is your jewelry… you know, waterproof?”

“Oh, Carver Hawke. What a time to ask me that.” She looked at him. “Where do you think I got it from? It can survive a drowning better than I can.”

“So… did you take it off for me?”

Isabela smiled. “You got me.”

Carver didn’t want to let her go. “Can we- where can we-”

“You know what they say about sand? All true. But it’s a hell of a lot of fun.” She clasped her hands over his and steered him towards the shore until her feet hit the ground and she could walk backwards. The water fell away from her with every step and Carver watched her skin drip with the shine of it as her breasts were exposed and then her waist, his hands still held in place. The breeze whispered against his own skin as more and more of it was bared, and only when the waves lapped at his ankles did Isabela pull him down on top of her.

He freed his hands from hers and stroked down the front of her body, caressing her hardening nipples and then down to the rise and fall of her breath. Isabela discarded the soaked headband and leaned up on her elbows, kissing Carver and sliding a foot up the back of his calf. He continued downwards over her hipbones and to her thighs, hand sliding under the upturned one to curl between her legs.

“You’ve gone so quiet,” she whispered.

“It won’t last. For either of us.” It was, perhaps, an overconfident assertion, but he was barely able to contain himself and was hoping it was the same for Isabela. He fingered over her clit and then around it, stroking his way down and then rubbing his fingertips just inside her.

Isabela hooked her leg up around his waist, wriggling back down onto the sand. “Mmm. Keep doing that. Just there.”

“What, really?”

She laughed. “Carver…”

Her hand went to his cock, and he let out a surprised groan. He slid his fingers in further, and out again, and when he thumbed over her clit again, Isabela was panting. She stroked him and his free hand went to rest on the sand, which gave under the weight he put on it. He put his fingers in fully and she squeezed them, her throat making a pleased hum. Carver pulled out and lowered himself, leaning down to kiss one of her breasts.

“Ohh… now you do that…”

“I’ll…” -kiss- “lead with that next time.” He licked around the nipple before sucking it in.

Isabela arched and pushed her chest up, fully encouraging him with a satisfied sigh. “You do that.”

She relaxed her leg and wrapped the other one around him, which prompted Carver to switch sides also. While he loved the taste of her, he wanted to know what it was like when she wasn’t drenched in salt. He pressed against Isabela and nuzzled under her ear, her hand guiding his cock until he was pushing into her and they both moaned into the quiet night air.

“Oh, _Maker_ …” he muttered, his face against her warm neck. She was flushed all over as everywhere he touched was the same. He braced one arm beside her head, the other free so he could touch her while they fucked. She had no such need for support and both her hands were smoothing along his skin, groping and tickling and making him moan everywhere they went. Carver squeezed one of Isabela’s tits, massaging it as he had fantasised about doing so, so many times.

“Carrrver…”

“Ah-!” The way she said his name, the feel of her body, it got Carver so close to the edge, and he bit his lip, gasping.

Isabela leaned up into his weight and rolled them over, sitting on Carver’s hips and placing her hands on his taut stomach.

A moment’s dizziness was overtaken by utter thrill and Carver’s heart raced giddily. “Uh-huh,” was all his voice could manage in approval, as anything else was likely to come out unintelligible.

She rose slowly and sank back down again, but it was only to make herself comfortable as she didn’t continue. Carver bunched his hands into the sand and let out a hungry groan. Instead she rolled her hips, and the movement around his cock was exquisite.

“Isabela- Isabela!”

“Nnnnh…” Isabela rocked above him and brought a hand up to touch herself.

“Ahhhh yes, _yes_ …” Carver wanted to thrust, but this was incredible too, and if it was what Isabela wanted then all the better. Pinned to the sand, his body arched and he shook, all of him sensitive and pulsing with warmth.

“Oh! Oh, Carver…” Isabela’s voice was unsteady, “what a sight you are… ohh…”

She was riding him now, and Carver breathed heavily, trembling at the edge. He kicked his heels into the wet sand and growled, letting it all go as he came. Isabela brought herself off shortly after, her husky cry as feral as his.

Carver slumped back, the soft sand hugging the shape of his back and making it difficult to even consider moving. Isabela rested down on top of him and sighed. They were both shaking a little, and he put his arms around her.

 

It was only a few days later that it occured to him. “I can’t ask you for a swimming lesson now without you thinking I mean something else, right?”

“I suggest we have the sex first. Just in case.”

Carver didn’t think that would help at all.


End file.
